


One More Quarter Makes A Whole

by PanthaPrincess



Series: Beloved Eight [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Come Eating, Come Feeding, Coming of Age, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Feanorian OT8, Incest, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-01 08:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13994400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanthaPrincess/pseuds/PanthaPrincess
Summary: Amrod and Amras finally come of age; the family celebrates in true Feanorian style





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I love this ship so much I'm writing a series. Not sure how many fics there will be but I've got a few ideas! I hope you enjoy this second instalment :) However, it can be read as a stand-alone. 
> 
> If you liked it, let me know!
> 
> Fëanor - Fëanáro  
> Maedhros - Maitimo/Neylo  
> Maglor - Macalaurë/Cáno  
> Celegorm - Tyelcormo/Turco/Turcafinwë  
> Caranthir - Carnistir/Moryo  
> Curufin - Curufinwë/Curvo/Atarinkë  
> Amrod - Pityafinwë/Pityo/Ambarussa  
> Amras - Telufinwë/Telvo/Ambarussa
> 
> Italics indicate mindspeak when not being used for emphasis.
> 
> *Unbeta-ed*

Pityafinwë and Telufinwë's majority celebration was a relatively small affair compared with those that had been held for their brothers. The twins were not renowned for their sociability outside of close family, therefore being the centre of attention at an event attended by all the well-to-do folk of Tirion would have been a fate worse than eternal damnation in Mandos' company. Therefore, only Finwë and his descendants had been invited to dine and rejoice in the youngest of the Feanorians coming of age. The fact that their mother had not graced them with her presence was of little concern. If anything it would prove to be fortuitous, though she rarely interfered in the relations of her husband and sons even when she was in residence.

The twins had not known about their family's predilections until around a decade ago. Their father had been careful to protect them from it until they were old enough to understand. But when Fëanáro had caught them kissing and dry humping each other in the library one afternoon, he'd realised the time to inform them had come. 

They had both burst into tears at the sight of their father's shocked expression, babbling over one another to explain themselves; that it wasn't what it looked like, that it was all a misunderstanding. Fëanáro had simply laughed kindly, gathered them both into his strong arms and squeezed them tightly as he told them it was natural to be curious and in fact, he encouraged their explorations of each other's bodies. He also explained that in time, when they reached their majority, they would be allowed to share their lovemaking with the rest of the family, but only if they decided it was what they wanted. 

It had been a lot of information to take in. To have woken up that morning grinding against your brother's erection and thinking you were an abomination of the Valar, and then retiring at the end of the day knowing that, in fact, your whole family was quite looking forward to fucking you, was a little overwhelming.

From that moment onwards, throughout the subsequent years leading up to their majority, their brothers and father had been much more open about their activities. The sights and sounds of lovemaking becoming part of their everyday life. Pityafinwë and Telufinwë had seen them kissing and touching causally in the family's private quarters, and had even, on occasion, seen them having sex or relaxing in the immediate aftermath of the act. The twins had been allowed to ask questions, and in the last few years had been permitted to kiss any member of the family they wished – in a less than familial sort of way. 

But Fëanáro had been very strict about his 'no overly inappropriate touching' rule. If things got too hot and heavy he'd pack the twins off to their room to indulge with each other instead, insisting that they wait to come of age before making their final decision.

Well, that day had finally come, and Pityo and Telvo were practically vibrating with excitement. They sat huddled together as the party began to wind down, offering cordial farewells to their departing extended family members. 

Neither Fëanáro nor their brothers had given any indication that they would make their offer tonight, but Telufinwë was convinced. 

“I'm telling you, Ambarussa,” he whispered while raising a hand to bid good evening to Findekáno, “They will come to us tonight.” 

Pityafinwë studied his father closely as he drank and laughed with Curufinwë, seemingly unaware of the torment his newly blossomed elf twins were experiencing. 

“I'm not so sure, Ambarussa,” he said, echoing their beloved twin name back at him, “Perhaps Atya does not think us ready,” his voice betrayed his concern. 

In the end, after no one approached them, they resigned themselves to the idea that it would not be tonight and retired to their chambers with heavy hearts.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As soon as the twins had exited the banqueting hall, Carnistir rounded on his father. 

“Why didn't you stop them? I thought we planned for this evening?” He demanded, eager to get the real celebrations underway. 

“Patience, my child. We cannot rain down upon them like ravenous wolves. You must remember they are young, the offer must be given quietly and calmly, as it was to all of you. I will not have them pressured by your overbearing libido,” Fëanáro shot back, not unkind but certainly firm. 

Carnistir bowed his head in deference, though he could not hold back his sigh of frustration. Fëanáro leant over and kissed his forehead in placation. 

“My beautiful, eager one," he smiled. "You will have your fun tonight should all go well.” He turned to address the rest of his sons, they being the only ones left in the room. “Maitimo and I will approach them with the offer. If they accept we will bring them forth to my chambers, which the rest of you will have prepared as I asked.” 

There were murmurs of agreeance all around, and the air almost shimmered with excitement.  
“Very well,” Fëanáro said, “Let us see where this joyous night will take us.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maitimo slipped his hand into Fëanáro's and linked their fingers together as they stood outside the twins' shared chambers. They had been waiting for this moment for so long, and even though it was very unlikely for Pityafinwë and Telufinwë to reject their offer – seeing as they took every opportunity they could get to stick their tongues in someone's mouth – the possibility that they would have to walk away without them lay heavy in both their hearts. 

Fëanáro knocked twice then pushed open the door without an answer, stamping his authority as he did in all matters. 

“I told you they would come tonight!” Telufinwë's excited hiss met their ears as they crossed the threshold. 

“Aye, brother. You were correct, I concede to you,” came Pityafinwë's slightly more measured response. 

As they entered their shared bedchamber just off the main room, they found the twins naked and huddled together under the covers, their lips already plump and wet from kissing, and their necks and chests littered with lover's marks both new and old. 

Fëanáro and Maitimo gave each other a knowing smirk before rounding the bed on either side and sitting down next to the young elves. Immediately Telufinwë clambered into his father's lap and nuzzled into his neck, as was his frequent wont, while Pityafinwë nestled under Maitimo's arm and looped his own snugly around his older brother's waist. 

“Well, I think we can safely assume there is no need to explain why we are here,” 

“No, Atya,” Pityafinwë said solemnly, “We are ready, and we are willing.”

“That is wonderful to hear, little one,” Maitimo rejoiced, squeezing him tight and kissing him soundly on the top of his head. 

“Your brothers are eagerly awaiting us in my chambers,” Fëanáro said, stroking his hands lovingly up and down Telvo's lightly muscled back. 

“They are?” He asked, withdrawing his face from his father's throat, his voice betraying his giddy anticipation. 

“Indeed. You know how much we have all looked forward your arrival in our bed.” Fëanáro let out a contented sigh. “At last, I am able to enjoy all of my beautiful creations at once,” he said, before drawing Telufinwë in for a kiss. 

Fëanáro kept it light at first, pulling back every time Telufinwë tried to deepen it, teasing his keen youngest son. Before long, however, he allowed his tongue to flick out, turning their soft brush of lips into a sensual caress. Their tongues slid together, hungrily devouring each other's mouths and Telufinwë moan into it, suddenly overcome with want. They had kissed many times before; in particular, he liked to visit Fëanáro's chambers just after his father coupled with one or more of his brothers. He'd curl up against his warm, sweat-damp chest as he lay pliant and sated, and licked into his father's mouth, hoping to catch the taste of his brother's seed on his tongue. This kiss, however, seemed even more intimate than that. This was a kiss that would lead to their own joining; a kiss with the promise of more, and it left Telufinwë trembling.

Beside them Maitimo was still cuddling Pityafinwë, combing his fingers through his dark red hair. The elder twin was always the more reserved of the two. Not nervous by any means, but happy to observe his twin's passion while ensconced in the warm, comforting embrace of his oldest brother. 

“Are you excited, little one?” Maitimo whispered into his ear, his ghosting breath making the sensitive tip twitch. 

“Yes, very much so. We have yet to see you all in full passion, and that is a sight I have coveted for some time,” he murmured back, dragging his eyes away from the duelling tongues to look Maitimo in the eye. 

His brother's pupils were dilated with arousal, and his plump, rosy lips were glossy from where he'd licked them. 

“They will have started playing already, you know,” Maitimo said as he started to peck kisses across his brother's face. “Curvo will have something in his rear for certain, he's almost insatiable, that one. We'll be glad of the help to satisfy him,” he chuckled. 

Pityafinwë's breath hitched at the thought. They had heard of Curufinwë's wantonness, but it would be another thing entirely to experience it first hand. 

“Whoever is not dealing with Curufinwë will be trying to stop Cáno from fussing, he calms down considerably when he's got a cock in his throat,” he breathed in a lust filled voice.

Pityafinwë would have exhaled a lewd moan had his brother not taken that moment to claim his lips, swallowing down the noise while he drew him onto his lap. 

Fëanáro broke his kiss and turned to watch the pair for a moment, gentling his panting son with steady hands. Eventually, when Maitimo and Pityafinwë separated, he addressed the twins again.

“Before we join the other's, I would ask you of your preferences. We are in the unique position of you having experience with each other, some knowledge what you enjoy. Tell me, has either of you taken the other?” 

The twins nodded. “Aye, Atya. We both take pleasure below and on top,” Pityafinwë said. 

Maitimo laughed, “Then it is true, Father; all of your sons' fit the Feanorian mould!” 

Fëanáro smiled widely, proud of his achievement of raising seven sons who were unafraid of their own passions. He kissed Telufinwë on the end of his nose then deposited him onto the bed. 

“In that case, we will prepare you both now. I doubt your brothers will be willing to wait once they get their hands on you.”

Maitimo placed Pityafinwë gently down next to his brother, their heads on the pillows and their knees bent, exposing their entrances. 

Fëanáro groaned as he looked from twin to twin and they both shivered with the delight of it. Maitimo produced a vial of oil from the pocket of his loose fitted robe and placed it within easy reach of himself and his father. 

Fëanáro studied the son before him, stroking reverently up and down the backs of his thighs before pushing them sharply up onto Telufinwë's chest.

“Let me see that pretty hole, my sweet. Do not hide from me,” he cooed. 

Telufinwë whimpered softly and hooked an arm under his knees to hold his legs up and allow his father to explore. With his other hand, he reached over to his twin, seeking reassurance from his touch, and found that Pityafinwë was in a similar position, with Maitimo's head lowered between his legs. The brother's eyes locked and they smiled, linking their fingers together. They were finally complete. 

Fëanáro recaptured his attention by circling his puckered rim with a spit-slicked finger, causing Telufinwë to gasp out “Atya!”. His brother had touched him there, had been inside him with his fingers and cock. But he had grown up with Pityafinwë, they had shared a bed their whole lives, his touch was familiar even in new places, this was his father; the renowned and revered Curufinwë Fëanáro. It was new and exciting and he could barely contain himself. 

Fëanáro placed a chaste kiss on the quivering ring of muscle and spoke, never taking his eyes from it.  
“Atya is going to make you nice and wet and open, my beloved.” He licked a broad stripe from entrance to sac before continuing. “I'll stretch you out for your brothers to take you. Get you ready to have this lovely little hole filled with cock.”

Telufinwë's loud moan turned into a choked off gurgle as his father's mouth beset him. His fingernails dug into the side of his knee and the back of Pityo's hand as he tried to deal with the onslaught of sensation. Fëanáro tongue seemed to be in all places at once, licking teasingly at his rim, lapping sloppily over it, and trying wriggling inside with the stiffened point. Saliva dripped down his crease until his father pulled back to collect it on his fingers and brought it back up to his hole. Telufinwë's eyes rolled back into his head when he pressed the first finger inside, releasing a loud, low groan from deep within his chest. He was slow and precise, using a single digit to stroke his walls, his tongue darting inside at every opportunity. Once Telufinwë was almost violently shaking he pulled back to retrieve the oil.

“Look at that, you're already relaxing for me,” Fëanáro spoke in an encouraging voice as he watched the tight pucker begin to wink open slightly, as though missing the intrusion and searching for the intoxicating sensation once more. 

Fëanáro coated his fingers in the viscose liquid and slowly pushed back in, croaking upward to find his sweet spot. Telufinwë cried out as pleasure shot through him, setting his nerves alight. His cock lay heavy against his belly, reddened with arousal and dripping clear fluid onto his skin, begging to be touched. 

The whole experience of being fingered open by his father was heightened by the erotic noises of Maitimo doing the same to his twin. Pityafinwë's moans and whines would have been enough to make him come, had he not held himself back while Fëanáro finished his task. 

Pulling his three fingers free, Fëanáro glanced over to check on his other son, and, deeming him equally prepared, stood up from the bed. Even though the twins had outgrown him by a couple of inches, he still bent down and scooped Telufinwë up into his arms as though he were an elfling. His body was still slight and easy to carry, the twins' musculature not yet fully developed, and certainly no match for the forge honed strength of Fëanáro. Even so, Telufinwë still wrapped his legs around his father's waist, in an effort to be closer to him if not to aid being carried. Fëanáro looked over his son's shoulder and called to his eldest. 

“Neylo, it is time. Bring him.”

Maitimo gave Pityafinwë one more lingering kiss before picking the floppy elf up in a similar fashion, his height advantage coming in handy, then the four exited and made their way to Fëanáro's chambers. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

All the family rooms were fairly close together within the large house, secluded in their own suite, but it was still a little walk to Fëanáro's personal chamber. As the group approached, the strains of a keening whine could be heard echoing down the hallway.

Fëanáro chuckled as he set Telufinwë down on his feet at the door, “Sounds like Curvo is getting fucked.”

The volume only increased as the door was pushed open. 

“Told you,” Maitimo whispered in Pityafinwë's ear, before kissing the delicate whorl and letting him decent to the floor, keeping him close with a steadying hand on his hip. 

They made their way through the ordered chaos of Fëanáro study-come-sitting room – where the family often gathered for intimate evenings by the fire – to the bedroom, whose door was ajar.

The scene which greeted them was exactly as Maitimo had predicted. Curufinwë was on his hands and knee in the centre of the oversized four-poster bed – made by Fëanáro himself to cater to the large gatherings they enjoyed – with Tyelcormo kneeling behind him, slamming his hips forward as he forcefully took his younger brother. On the plush, velvet divan adjacent to the end of the bed, Carnistir sat with his legs spread wide, Macalaurë on his knees between them while he sucked his cock teasingly. 

All eyes alighted on them as they entered the room. Tyelcormo increased the speed of his already frantic thrusts as he gritted out between his passion-clenched teeth, “Welcome, brothers. I'm overjoyed at your acceptance!” 

The twins needed no further prompting. They scrambled towards the bed and onto the silken, crimson covers. Telufinwë crouched down in front of Curufinwë to share a kiss, making Curvo moan with relief and lust. Pityafinwë took Turco's face in his hands and dragged him into a kiss of their own, the older brother's pace never slowing even as his attention was diverted. 

Fëanáro sat on the edge of the bed and was joined by Carnistir who clung to him and muttered words of joy and encouragement to the twins. Meanwhile, Maitimo had gone to retrieve Macalaurë from the floor, pulling him up and into a tight embrace, the pressure and tension of the much-anticipated offer finally seeping from his muscles as he hugged his brother tight. 

They had spent many a night discussing the various ins and outs of this evening, voicing worries and concerns, but also hopes and desires. 

“It is done, then. We are whole,” Macalaurë sighed, stroking his brother's face and running his long, powerful, musician's fingers into his flaming locks. 

“We are. I couldn't be happier,” Maitimo said with a smile then bent his head down to lick at Macalaurë's soft, wet lips, tasting his saliva and Moryo's pre-come. Cáno hummed faintly as he soothed his mouth, swollen from his nervous suckling of his brother's length, then opened up to permit the tongue inside. 

They kissed briefly, savouring each other to the rhythmic slap of Turcafinwë's balls upon the swell Curvo's shapely backside. Breaking apart, Maitimo took his hand and lead him over to the bed, just in time to see Tyelcormo shudder to completion deep inside his brother's passage. Moments later, with the help of Telufinwë kisses and Pityafinwë's hand on his cock, Curufinwë spurted his release over the bedspread before collapsing into the twins' waiting arms. 

They fussed over their dazed and panting brother, fondling him and cooing in his ear as he came down from his high. 

“It's as though they've always been with us,” Carnistir said with a smile as he stripped their father, lovingly caressing every inch of revealed skin as he went. “You're not the baby anymore, Curvo,” he said as the ebony haired elf began to come round and respond to the twins' touches. “No more special treatment,” he teased, even though he knew that would never be the case. If anything, Curufinwë would be doted upon even more now.

Curufinwë glared over Telufinwë's shoulder at his older brother as he licked up the side of the younger twin's neck, then turned with a pout – that was only partly in jest – to Fëanáro. 

“Fine. But I still want my ass filling as much as possible,” he said then groaned as Pityafinwë obliged him by slipping a couple of fingers into his hole. 

“Fear not, brother,” the elder twin placated, “We would never leave you wanting. Far from it.” He shot a meaningful glance at his mirror image sibling on Curufinwë's other side, and the pair shared a silent, mental conversation. 

Telufinwë's face split into a wide cheeky grin and he spun around to Fëanáro, who was now grinding against Carnistir, to whisper something in his ear. Curvo looked at Pityafinwë in questioning, but he merely shook his head slowly and gave him a suggestive wink. 

Curufinwë was struck by how confident the twins were. On the night of his own majority, he had been thoroughly overwhelmed. It seemed they were complete opposites of each other. While Curufinwë exuded assertiveness in public - from the way he wore his fine clothing to the self-assured skill he demonstrated in the forge - but in bed, he had been a bag of nerves and poorly expressed impulses for the first couple of years, despite the love and reassurance from his family. The twins, on the other hand, we the very picture of self-sufficiency, the need for nothing more than each other's company at times bordered on hostile, but their family knew it was born out of shyness. And though they were perfectly at ease in the presence of the Feanorian household, Curufinwë had not expected them to have such a commanding air about them with regard to all things erotic. Still, it was a welcome surprise. 

Telufinwë pulled back from his father's ear and looked at him searchingly. “Is that possible? Can we do that?” He asked, his voice hopeful.  
Fëanáro chuckled and kissed his forehead, “Aye, my eager one, it is possible. But I think we should save such an act for another time,” he said, his eyes twinkling with almost childlike mischief. Telufinwë nodded his understanding as Macalaurë's arms encircled him from behind. 

“So, little ones, now that you finally have us at your beck and call, what would you do with us?” He asked, kneeling on the bed with Telufinwë's back flush against his bare chest. He slid his hand down his hard, toned chest, over his flat stomach and wrapped his long, spidery fingers around his youngest brother's straining erection. 

Telufinwë thrust forward into his hand, but the grip was far to light to provide much friction.  
“We have discussed it, at length, and I would first like to take you Cáno,” he gasped out. 

“Ohh, beloved,” Macalaurë crooned, “I'm flattered.” Then he sank his teeth into the thick rope of muscle that joined Telvo's shoulder and neck, causing him to cry out. 

“And who have you chosen, Pityo?” Tyelcormo asked, sitting down next to him and brushing his hair away from his face so he could watch him sucking and biting on Curufinwë's nipple. Pityafinwë's eyes immediately shot to their father, who was still locked in a passionate embrace with Moryo, rutting their arousals against one another's thighs, soft enough to tease and draw out lots sticky pre-come to paint each other with. 

Catching the silent request from his vantage point leaning casually against one of the bedposts, Maitimo pushed himself forward to untangle the pair. 

“Pityo wishes to take you, Atya,” he said, pulled Carnistir away gently, soothing his protests by palming his wet cock. 

Tyelcormo dragged Fëanáro further up the bed to make him comfortable on the pillows then reached out and pulled his legs apart urging Pityafinwë between them. Macalaurë lay down beside then and dragged Telufinwë on top of his, capturing his mouth in a ferocious kiss. 

Pityafinwë stroked up and down his father's thighs from where he knelt between them, the first hint of nerves starting the twist in his gut. Sensing his unease, Fëanáro reached out a hand to cup his face lovingly, forcing him to meet his eyes. 

“There is nothing to fear, young one,” he whispered, brushing his cheek with his callused thumb. 

Tyelcormo sat down beside him and rubbed his little brother's shoulders. “Nothing at all. Besides, it's not just the younger Curufinwë that enjoys getting a good fucking, isn't that right, Atya?” He said sweetly, a wicked grin gracing his fair features as he reached down between his father's spread legs to lift his sac and tickle his puckered hole, snickering as it dilated, already stretched and ready to take his son. 

Fëanáro mewled at the teasing touch then hooked his arm around Pityafinwë's neck to pull him down. Their mouthed clashed together and their tongues met in a caress until Fëanáro pushed him back slightly to whisper, “Fuck me, little one,” then licked away the string of spittle that linked their mouths together. 

Feeling fully reassured, Pityafinwë reached down between their bodies he lined his weeping erection up with his father's fluttering entrance and pushed slowly inside, revelling in the long guttural moan that rang out from Fëanáro's throat as he bottomed out. 

The clinging heat of Fëanáro's passage around him was almost too much to bear and Pityafinwë butted his forehead against his father's as he panted harshly. Tilting his head upwards Fëanáro rubbed his nose along his son's at once calming and supportive.

“I love you, Atya,” Pityafinwë breathed, squeezing his eyes shut to try and keep the waves of emotion and arousal at bay. 

“As I love you, precious one,” he murmured back, and finally Pityafinwë began to move. 

He rocked his hips forward, grinding their bodies together in a way he knew made his brother keen, and the same was true of Fëanáro. After a moment he drew back, almost pulling out completely before slamming back in, angling himself to try and brush his sweet spot. 

Next to them, the lovemaking was already fully underway. Telufinwë was pounding into Macalaurë's squeezing channel with vigour, both of them crying out their unrestrained lust and happiness at their long-awaited joining. Macalaurë with his melodic resonance and Telufinwë with a deep gruffness that belied his size and age. 

Macalaurë's legs were wrapped tightly around Telvo's waist as the younger elf held himself up on one forearm next to his head. With the other hand, Telufinwë skimmed the pads of his bow-calloused fingers over Macalaurë's face, studying the contours of his high cheekbones, the long, noble slope of his nose, the lushness of his lips, parted by gasping breaths. 

“You're so beautiful, Cáno,” he said, his voice filled with wonderment and worship. 

Macalaurë answered him with a warm smile and the capture of two of Telufinwë's fingers between his teeth. With a hollowing of his cheeks, Cáno sucked them firmly into his mouth whereupon he attacked them with his tongue, his eyes burning his desire like beckons in the night as he stared up into Telufinwë's face; flushed, panting, and half-lidded. 

Telvo rested his palm on his brother's chin, the fingers not in his mouth gripping his face securely as the power with which he fucked him into the mattress increased. Drool leaked from the corners of Macalaurë's lips and his eyes fluttered closed, the purest of blisses overtaking him. He was never more content than when his mouth was occupied, whether with song or flesh. 

Even with the bed as oversized and reinforced as it was, with eight hot blooded elves upon it all rutting this way and that it was no wonder the rocking headboard had begun to chip the plaster an whitewash off the stone wall. 

Maitimo and Tyelcormo had taken up the space at the foot of the bed with Carnistir between them, a cock in each end. Tyelcormo thrust lackadaisically into his mouth, in no hurry to finish, while Maitimo took his rear at a more enthusiastic pace. 

Curufinwë had gotten down from the bed and was simply enjoying the view, circling the piles of tangle bodies to take in as much as possible, fisting his quickly rejuvenated cock. As all began to reach their peak, he chose to focus in on Telufinwë and Macalaurë. Standing next to his older brother's face, he leant over to rub the head of his cock over his already occupied lips. Telufinwë took the hint and withdrew his fingers, dragging them down Macalaurë's chin, neck, and chest in wet trails before settle on his pulsing arousal. 

Curufinwë inserted the tip of his cock between those temptingly plump lips and immediately Macalaurë began to suckle him. He tugged his length harder, careful not to dislodge his cock head, and allowed the look of divine ecstasy on Macalaurë's face, and the sight of his little brother's shaft disappearing inside his ass, to bring him to another explosive climax. 

Macalaurë drank him down greedily, licking into the slit to collect all that could be offered, which in turn coaxed him into his own orgasm. The pulsing of his passage around Telufinwë was more than enough the set off the young elf who thrust in deep to empty himself. 

The sounds of completion echoed off the stone walls in a cacophony fair sweeter than anything even Macalaurë could accomplish on his harp. Fëanáro dug his nail deep into the firm flesh of Pityafinwë's backside as he came from the friction between their bodies and the look of rapture on his youngest's face. 

The triad behind finished not long later, spurred on by their brothers and father. The family collapsed into their respective piles sweaty and content. Giving Macalaurë a final, sweet kiss, Telufinwë pulled his softening cock from his body and left him in the capable hands of Curufinwë so he could join his twin and father. 

“This was more than we could ever have wished for Father,” he said, already drowsy and craving warm skin to curl up and sleep on. 

Fëanáro brought him into the circle of his arms so he could share space on his broad chest with his brother. 

“Well, I'm glad you have enjoyed yourselves so far,” he spoke indulgently, kissing both their foreheads. 

“So far?” Pityafinwë asked, looking up at him with big hazel eyes. 

Fëanáro chuckled lightly, closing his own eyes and letting his head fall back against the pillow. 

“The night is yet young, my beloved ones, there is much time before the next Mingling. Do not forget this is a special occasion, _and_ we didn't prepare these delectable little holes for nothing!” he exclaimed, giving their respective ass cheeks a resounding smack, prompting a gasp and giggle from both. 

“But for now, rest. I will wake you in an hour or so.” And before their father had even finished his sentence, the twins were already sound asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read chapter 1! Also, I apologise for the mix up with twins' names toward the end there, I didn't proofread it very well and I have no beta at the moment. But it's been fixed now, so thank you to [uumuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uumuu) for pointing that out to me! If anyone sees any mistakes or irritating inaccuracies please do let me know, I really appreciate it! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the conclusion to this tale! 
> 
> Fëanor - Fëanáro  
> Maedhros - Maitimo/Neylo  
> Maglor - Macalaurë/Cáno  
> Celegorm - Tyelcormo/Turco/Turcafinwë  
> Caranthir - Carnistir/Moryo  
> Curufin - Curufinwë/Curvo/Atarinkë  
> Amrod - Pityafinwë/Pityo/Ambarussa  
> Amras - Telufinwë/Telvo/Ambarussa

The feeling of silky sheets, soft skin, and the sound of hushed voices permeated Pityafinwë's consciousness, but he refused to allow these stimuli to drag him fully from the depths of sleep. He could feel the familiar heat of Telufinwë's body before him; near, as he almost always was when they awoke. Under the covers, their legs were entwined tightly and their bodies were pressed together from groin to chest. Their arms on the side they rested were tucked in between them, their hands clasped, and the arms on top were slung over each other's backs. 

He drowsily snuggled closer to his darling twin, drawn towards his warmth like a moth to a lamp. Tucking his head under Telvo's chin he tenderly kissed the supple skin of his neck, breathing in the scent that had surrounded and comforted him his whole life. 

Pityafinwë let his lips rest against his brother's gently flickering pulse and sighed, his breath condensing on the skin he loved so dearly. Gradually, Telufinwë started to stir, little twitches of his muscles the only indication he was beginning to wake. Pityo kissed his throat again, a little harder, then flicked his pink tongue out to moisten the flesh and help with the slid of his lips. 

A soft mewl came from Telufinwë's throat and he tilted his head to bare his neck to his brother. The promise of what was usually a morning ritual for them, the only thing that could pull them both from their dozy slumber. 

The bed shifted slightly around them and the hushed voices stilled for a moment, their owners obviously realising that the twins were rousing. Pityafinwë tightened the dense muscle of his thigh, which was positioned between his brother's legs, the subtle movement signalling he was awake and ready. 

Telufinwë shifted a little, bringing their bodies even closer, and with their eyes still closed, they found each other's lips. There was a stifled gasp to the side of them, but they ignored it; more than happy to be watched, but not deigning to give their attention to anyone but each other. 

They repeatedly kissed with open mouths, but kept their tongues to themselves for the moment, as they always liked to do. Teasing was the name of the game here, ramping up their sleepy arousal until they were overwhelmed by it. 

They ran their hands over each other's backs, feeling muscles contract and relax as they moved lower and lower until they could squeeze and kneed at their shapely behinds. Telufinwë was the first to introduce his tongue, at the same time as he shifted his hand further back to touch his brother's entrance. It was not something they normally did during these dry humping sessions, but the continuing occasion of their majority called for a little more adventurous play.

The wet slide of tongue against tongue was complimented by the tentative circling of Pityafinwë's still slick rim, and the older twin moaned into his brother's mouth, thrusting forward so their erections rubbed together. 

There was an excited murmur from the foot of the bed and very slowly the sheet was pulled away from where it was gathered at their hips; clearly, their audience was getting tired of guessing what was going on under the covers. But the twins were too lost in their own pleasure to care about what went on around them, so much so that they didn't even open their eyes when someone settled quite close to them and they began to hear the subtle slap of hand on flesh. 

“Carnistir, are you honestly just going to sit there pleasuring yourself and staring at them while they are unawares?” Maitimo asked, his voice full of humour and no small amount of arousal.   
The slapping sound of Moryo tugging on his cock never ceased as he replied, “I can't help it, they just look so beautiful together. Look at them...” he trailed off into a moan as the twins rutting heightened in intensity, little noises of pleasure falling from their mouths between kisses. 

“Aye, they are beautiful,” Macalaurë said, his throat tight with emotion and lust. “Long have we waited to see such an exquisite act.” 

“I will fetch Father and Curvo,” Tyelcormo said, and the bed dipped and rose as he got up to pad across the room. 

Things were becoming fevered with twins by the time Turco return with his brother and father in tow. Pityafinwë and Telufinwë had finally opened their eyes, but not for the benefit of looking at their family. In this moment, they only had their sights set on each other. 

Their panting breath mingling between them as they stared at one another, their communication silent but constant as they urged each other on. 

_Brother! Brother, yes, just like that. I love you._

_As I love you, Telvo, Ambarussa, my beloved._

_I want to come, Pityo, Ambarussa. I want to feel you come against me._

_Do it, please, please, I need to feel you quake with pleasure before I let go._

Heeding his brother's words, Telufinwë's increased his pace, rocking his hips so that his length slid over his brother's stomach and against his cock, the movement in the tight space between them wonderfully slick with sweat and copious amounts of pre-come. 

With their eyes and minds locked together, they were cocooned in their own little world of hedonism. Finally, the sensations became too much for Telufinwë and he begged silently in his brother's head for release.

_Please, Pityo, please can I?_

_Come for me, Little Brother, spill yourself against my skin_

Pityafinwë crooned back, and the touch of his mind was enough to push Telufinwë over the edge. He came with a cry, spurting his seed over his brother's stomach, the wetness seeping over both their cocks and making the slide of skin all the more delicious. Pityafinwë could hold back no longer. The feeling of Telvo's essence on his body making him shudder and spill, wetting them both further in sticky come. It was a feeling he enjoyed every morning, but it was one that would never get old. 

They clung to each other as the tremors of orgasm subsided and finally, they turned to face their congregated family. Both blinked owlishly up at the gathered Feanaroians, as though they were only just regaining consciousness.

“That was an arresting display, little ones,” Fëanáro said, him being the only one composed enough to speak. 

Their brothers all sat around them, arousal written clear as day on their faces. Carnistir was covered in his own ejaculate but had either regained his tumescence or had simply never lost it. The twins were not yet ready to let go of one another, but when Pityafinwë saw the creamy substance dripping over his brother's fingers he simply had to taste it. Still holding his twin close, he reached out and drew Carnistir's hand towards himself and brought it up to his mouth to lick away the seed, sharing the flavour on his tongue with Telvo in brief kisses. 

Curufinwë approached Telufinwë from behind and was tugged light on his shoulder so that he could get between them when Telvo suddenly yelped and flattened himself against Pityafinwë, causing them all to startle with concern. 

Pityafinwë pulled away from Carnistir's fingers and understood his brother's distress immediately. He gave Curufinwë – who was looking at them with panicked expression – a reassuring smile, before dipping his head to meet his brother's eyes. 

“It's ok, Russa, I've got you,” he whispered, stroking his face lovingly. 

Telufinwë kissed him chastely, “I love you always, brother. From now unto the breaking of the world,” he said, so earnest that it caused many a lump to rise in the throats of those who watched. 

“As I love you, brother. From now unto the breaking of the world,” Pityafinwë echoed back. 

Then, simultaneously, they reached down between themselves and scooped up a little of their mingled seed the brought it to each other's mouths. With great reverence, they took the offered fingers between their lips and sucked them clean. When they were done they smiled at each other with such intimate love and contentment the others felt as though they were intruding on something not meant for their eyes. 

Finally, Telufinwë rolled away from his twin and hugged Curufinwë tightly. 

“Sorry if I scared you, Curvo. It's just something we have to do before we separate.” He blushed a little. “I know it's silly-” he began, but Curufinwë stopped him with a finger on his lips. 

“It is _your_ time, beloved. Your ritual of love. It was an honour to witness it,” Curufinwë said firmly, his eyes shining with the same intensity their father's often did. 

Fëanáro took both the twins' hands in his and agreed, “Aye, 'twas an honour. Never apologise for what you share,” he said with a smile full of kindness and pride.

Breaking the sentimental atmosphere that had settled over them, Curufinwë drew attention to the spill of semen across both of their bellies. 

“But look at all this mess you've made, you dirty boys,” he drawled seductively against Telufinwë's lips, dragging his fingers through the seed. He gave him a brief but sumptuous kiss before drawing back to lick the fluid from his hand, groaning deeply. 

“Maitimo, Atya, come here and taste,” he called pulling the older elves closer. 

The pair descended upon his abdomen like savage beasts, licking and sucking at his skin while Curufinwë kissed him, sweet and filthy.

Beside him, Pityafinwë was receiving much the same treatment from Tyelcormo, Carnistir, and Macalaurë, whimpering and moaning at the erotic sight and feel of them licking him clean. By the time they were done, both twins were suitably hard and more than willing to continue the evening's entertainment. 

After Fëanáro sat back, smacking his lips in satisfaction, Maitimo crawled over Telufinwë's body and flattened himself against him, their skin sticking together with the saliva left behind from the cleaning of his groin. 

“Would you like to be taken now, my sweetness?” He asked nibbling along his angular jawline and undulating his hips, causing their erections to brush together. 

Telufinwë groaned under the attention. “Aye, please, brother, fuck me,” he pleaded, breathing hard. 

Maitimo gave him a mock-scandalized look, widening his eyes and gasping in faux-horror. “Oh, what a filthy tongue you have! You certainly didn't learn that word at my knee!” He berated, then his face cracked into a sly smile. Leaning in close to his brother's ear, his breath hot and damp over the delicate helix. 

“And how exactly would you like to be... _Fucked_?” he asked, his sultry voice adding emphasis to the lewd profanity. 

Telvo gave a little whine in the back of his throat, pelvis jolting forward as though the involuntary responses of his muscles were directly linked to Maitimo's voice. 

“Nelyo, please!” He begged, but his ever loquacious brother was not going to let him get away with it that easily. 

“Ah, ah, ah, I not until you tell me how. This is your night, my beauteous one, you shall have everything your heart desires.” 

Maitimo's alluringly rich voice sent shivers down Telufinwë's spine, which, combined with his overwhelming lust, made his own voice shake as he answered. 

“I... I want you to fuck me any way you like. Hard, gentle, anything, everything. I want to know what you like,” he whispered, his eyes wide, like a deer caught unawares by a hunter, as his brother studied his face. 

Sensing that the young elf would not be able to handle much more of his teasing, he conceded to take the reins in their lovemaking. There would be time enough in the future to extract more information from him. 

Maitimo kissed him full on the lips, loving but almost chaste, enjoying the softness of them for a moment before pulling back with an indulgent smile. 

“As you wish, my beguiling one,” he murmured, then pecked him on the end of his nose, just as he had done since Telufinwë was an elfling. 

The reminiscence of their more familial interactions in this concupiscent moment sent a frisson of lust through him; a reminder that while they were engaging in something quite normal for their own family, to others, it was forbidden and illicit. 

While he was lost in thought, Maitimo had gone to fetch the oil and was now drizzling some over his fingers. 

“I know we prepared you before, but I want to make sure,” he said, ever the protective big brother. 

Telufinwë lifted his legs to help, showing himself off for his brother's inspection. Maitimo kissed him on the ankle which rested on his shoulder and pushed inside with two fingers, making the little elf gasp. 

“That's it, beloved. Good boy, open up for me,” he crooned softly. 

A few cursory thrusts with oily fingers were all that was needed to loosen his passage again and moments later, Maitimo was rubbing the slick head of his cock over the rim. 

“I've waited so long for this moment,” he said, almost to himself as he teased the puckered hole in front of him, circling around the edge to spread his pre-come over flushed and sensitive skin. Eventually, he allowed the tip to push against Telufinwë's opening until it slipped inside and there he left it, staring intently at the place where they were joined. 

The stretch was nice, but nowhere near enough. “Nelyo, move! I can-” Telufinwë began but Maitimo shushed him, rubbing absent-mindedly over his hipbone with his thumb. 

“Patience, little one,” he said mildly. 

Still with just the head inside that hot, pulsating channel, Maitimo reached down and stroked lightly over the taut ring of muscle, the tickling sensation triggering a sharp intake of breath and a pleasant squeeze around his organ. 

Telufinwë gave a plaintive cry, gripping his oldest brother's upper arms so hard his fingernails dug little half mood indentations into his skin, trying desperately to end the torture and push himself down on the thick length that was just barely impaling him. 

“Hush, little one, calm yourself,” Maitimo said laying over him once more but still refusing to push inside any further. “I want to savour this moment.”

He grinned wickedly, even as he gave in to Telvo's demand for kisses until eventually, he reached his own breaking point. 

“Are you ready?” He asked innocently. Telufinwë's only response was a savage growl and a passive-aggressive contraction of his passage. 

Maitimo gasped through his laugh, then slowly began to press inside, studying his little brother's face as he slid forward. Telufinwë's eyes rolled back and his eyelids fluttered shut, the sensation of a hot, turgid length filling him so completely was almost too much. 

Once he was finally sheathed, Nelyo took a few moments to gather himself before beginning to move, slow but deep, his thrusts laces with pent-up energy and lust. 

Telufinwë simply sank back into his father's vermilion sheets and moaned his little heart out, his voice hiccuping with the force of each thrust bottoming out. Suddenly Maitimo gripped his chin and turned his head so he was looking at his twin who lay so close to him. He had almost forgotten Pityafinwë was there at all. Maitimo covered his ear with wet lips, mouthing messily and whispering his carnal desires. 

“Kiss him, I want to see it again,” he demanded, the powerful rocking motion of his hips never ceasing. 

It took Telufinwë a few moments to process the request but eventually, his sex-addled brain caught up and he attempted to gain his brother's attention.

In the back of his mind, Telufinwë thought that the eutrophic look on his brother's face - all doe-eyed and drooling as Carnistir pounded into his backside - was probably exactly the picture he was painting as Maitimo's cock rubbed sublimely over his special place deep inside. He flailed an arm out, his limbs nearly beyond his own control, and tapped his brother's side repeatedly until Pityafinwë turned to look at him. 

Their eyes lock as their minds connected again.

_Kiss me, brother, Nelyo want another show._

Pityafinwë immediately complied, surging forward so their lips met in an uncoordinated but zealous kiss. Wet tongues twined outside of open mouths as they sucked and licked in an ostentatious demonstration of their passion for each other. 

It was clear that Carnistir enjoyed the display because the speed of his thrusts increased dramatically and he began to race his way closer to completion, jolting Pityafinwë's body so much that kissing became a struggle. 

Maitimo, as always, expressed his appreciation with his silver tongue. He groaned long and low in Telufinwë's ear, his nose buried in the hair resting over the tapered point. 

“Long have a dreamed of this, _pleasured myself_ to the thought of you writhing with him, kissing him, _fucking_ him,” he panted harshly, the rhythm of his hips unfaltering. “You undo me with your mirrored beauty,” he cried and raised himself up from his forearms to lean on his hands so he could slam himself harder into his whimpering brother. 

Over on the divan, Fëanáro and Curufinwë had secluded themselves away from the others to briefly and quietly reaffirm their love. Curufinwë would never be so cruel or selfish to demand his father's sole attention on the twins' special day, but it did fill his heart with warmth when Fëanáro pulled him to one side - whilst his youngest brothers were occupied - to reassure him of his place. 

They made languorous, unhurried love together, Curufinwë thrusting at a measured pace into his father, while the older elf murmured sweet nothings to him. 

“You'll always be my special one, Curufinwë, Atarinkë. My baby, my favourite son, my precious child, my very own mirror image,” he crowed, his legs locked around Curvo's waist, shaking with the effort of holding back his unravelling. 

Curufinwë chuckled at his father's gushing words but preened all the same. Reaching between them, he took his father's arousal in hand and stroked him firm and fast. 

“Come for me now Atya, my own Curufinwë,” he whispered, his deep voice curling seductively into Fëanáro's consciousness as he rammed his length home time and again. Fëanáro stiffened sharply, holding tense for a moment, suspended on the brink of all-consuming pleasure until a well-placed thrust took him into oblivion. He jerked and writhed, and Curufinwë fucked him through it all. When his release had ceased spurting forth, Curvo bent his head to lick a broad strip through the spillage on his father's chest and stomach, moaning at the glorious taste of the essence that made him. Moments later Curufinwë was coming; the last, clenching vestiges of his father's orgasm milking the seed from his cock. 

After they rested entangled for a few minutes, recapturing their breath, Fëanáro kissed his son on the forehead then encouraged him to his feet. 

“Come, let us return to the twins lest they should feel neglected on their own celebration day,” he said, staggering up on unsteady legs, Curufinwë's seed dripping down is backs of his thighs. 

“I doubt there's any danger of that,” Curufinwë's said with giggle taking his father by the hand and leading him to the bed where Tyelcormo and Macalaurë had assumed the mantle of pleasuring the twins now Maitimo and Carnistir were sated. 

The two satisfied elves sat cuddled together beside the ongoing action, lovingly caressing each other and kissing random bits of sweat-damp skin. 

Telufinwë had spilt himself already, the pearlescent fluid on his skin glinting in the warm glow of the candles and the shimming light from Telperion streaming in through the open window. He lay basking in his afterglow as Tyelcormo took him with fervour, snarling and biting at his throat. Macalaurë took a gentler, but no less passionate approach, his metronomic pace producing the most enticing gurgles and mewls from a still erect Pityafinwë. 

Fëanáro and Curufinwë joined the other spent elves on the bed, snuggling in close and enjoying the spectacle. The slap of flesh, the panting moans, and the squelching, sucking sound of well-lubricated backsides being plundered was almost enough to get them hard again, but not quite. Very soon there came the cacophony of climax as Macalaurë, Pityafinwë, and Tyelcormo all shuddered to the finish.

The long-suffering four-poster groaned in protest as the family rearranged themselves for sleep. Maitimo carried Macalaurë over to the divan so they could curl up together as they often did, giving those who remained on the bed a little more room. 

The discombobulated twins found themselves sandwiched between Curufinwë and Fëanáro, with Tyelcormo slotting in behind his beloved Curvo, and Carnistir choosing to settle his head on Pityafinwë's thigh, hugging Telufinwë's shin as though for comfort. 

It wasn't the last time they all slept like this, in a sweaty, sticky pile, love and devotion permeating every fibre of their beings; nor were the activities they had just engaged in the most rampant or adventurous. But this was the start of it all, the moment they became a family of eight so intertwined with each other nothing could come between them, and for better or for worse, that was how they remained for the rest of their days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Atya - Dad/Daddy  
> Atarinkë - Little Father, named so for the striking resemblance Curufinwë has to his father.


End file.
